If you're Bonnie, I'm Clyde
by Nerdsbians
Summary: "If you're gonna die for something, die for something you love." -Sameen Shaw Updated on March 27 - Chapter 8
1. Chapter 1

**No Copyright Infringement Intended**

**Title: **If you're Bonnie, I'm Clyde

**Rating****:** T

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A moment. Our lives are made out of them. Thousands of moments in a day. Three-hundred-sixty-five days in a year, thirty-thousand days in a lifetime.

Millions of moments in a lifetime.

I had never experienced in my entire lifetime so many feelings and so conflicting at the same time. I was left completely immobile, two of the softest lips had me defenseless. I was unable to resist, and unable to stop her from making the worst mistake of her life, and saving mine.

I was for a moment suspended in time, and it was as if a thousand simulations played in my head, of all the times when I'd whispered sweet things to her, and with every whisper scratching away at the walls she'd worked so hard to build, her familiarity, and her desire to defend her territory which I had so completely invaded had until now stopped her from making anoy attempt at a real connection, instead opting for sarcastic remarks, for what better to hide feelings than dismissive laughter.

But we had no more time to laugh, our time had run out. Our story, if there was to be any, was to be concentrated in all those little moments and this one. Oh, I felt it, Shaw, the four-alarm fire.

It blazed red hot in my soul.

My eyes had closed, my eyes were deaf, the only thing to feel was your lips on mine. When your hands touched my jacket and pushed me from you forever I felt it like the crush of a subway train, just as your kiss, impossible to resist. The warmth went with you Shaw, it left my body immediately, leaving me cold and helpless, but most importantly, completely hopeless.

Is this what it feels like to be empty, Shaw? With you at my side, I had almost forgotten.

You wouldn't risk it before, you never would, but you knew this day would come.

You would never let yourself go, you would never let your feelings out, but if for one second, you got to really live before you died, wouldn't it be worth it? I guess in some part of me I understand, but for the most part it feels wrong, unnaceptable. It should be me, there, on the floor, saving you. This wasn't supposed to be part of the plan, I just can't accept it, no matter how hard I try.

Your face represented the deep struggle you had within yourself. It was so easy for you to simply die for those you loved. Your loyalty was always as strong as Bear's. Even if you never openly expressed it to anyone, you cared, you cared about us all so much, even if you didn't care about yourself at all. That made it easy, for you, there was no other choice. Kissing me, however, that's a whole different story, one that is simply not over yet.

Because when you ran accross that hall I ran after you and hit a wall, because the burn of the wire on my fingers as I grasped at it screaming in helpless anger, outrage and complete despair, they are still there. The scars I got from trying to open it with a strength I didn't know I had. But you kept me going Shaw, every bullet that grazed your shoulder or your arm was a new reason to tear at that barrier you had put between us. I screamed and I shook the wire, I couldn't feel the boys hold me back, I couldn't see Samaritan's agents, but I saw your beautiful raven hair fly as shot after shot hit you, and that was the only thing I saw. Every shot I heard was a bomb exploding in my heart, killing me over and over as I watched you fall. I felt no pain myself, only the heartwrenching suffering for your life that you never felt, and someone had to feel it, Shaw, someone had to miss you. Someone had to be there watching you and take on all of the pain because they loved you. And they say pain changes a person. I think we've all changed a great deal, especially lately. I knew it when you kissed me. It changed me too.

Now you are my purpose, my primary objective, for we are legendary.

A ticking time-bomb, that's what we are, but I know you always liked the danger. And Shaw, I just want you to remember, wherever you are, that when things became such in your life that you had to resort to such measures as lying with your mouth and your eyes, there was one thing that kept you going, and that brought you to all of us, hope, because I will find you, I will gladly die trying, but not before I taste your mouth and prove you wrong. Darling, you deserve so much more. We might be a match made in hell, but if we are the fire is the strongest, most beautifully destructive one you've ever seen. You are the sweetest sociopath.

I ask only one thing of you Shaw, trust the Machine. But most importantly, trust _me_.


	2. Chapter 2

**No Copyright Infringement Intended**

**Title: **If You're Bonnie, I'm Clyde

**Chapter: **2

**Rating: **T

**Pairing: **Root/Shaw

**Genre: **Romance/Drama

Sleep was impossible, there was one thing which would simply not let me close my eyes, for every time I did, hers woud appear, dark and full of desire, a gaze which seemed to say I'm just so tired of fighting.

_There is nothing around me but your smell, the smell of New York City, you are beautiful and dangerous, just like it. Your arms embrace me and your red hot lips graze the neck you once held in your grasp with a cold gaze and hostile threats, I responded with comments sweet and warm as summer wine. Now I stay silent, and close my eyes, breathe in the smell of your hair, it smells like leather and gunpowder and you. It smells of you. And I am surrounded, constantly surrounded by your presence, its sweet addiction, and bitter torture. I need it more, because when my soul found yours it found a home, never to be safe again, for at any time it could explode. But the excitement, the expectation. Darling, it was intoxicating._

I saw her eyes as she lay on the floor, feeling free to give up when she had finally given me something to fight for. Where was that fearless strength I had for so long admired?

There was a certain fire in me that almost made me reckless. I left my apartment building in the dark of night, confident but if anything careless, for I am not a Machine. Losing Shaw to Samaritan had triggered something in me.

_They've made a terrible mistake, _I thought as I walked the shadow map of the city, new information on Samaritan's operatives in my back pocket. _We will strike back hard. _Nothing is impossible for someone who has nothing left to lose.

The machine is programmed to save absolutely everyone, no matter whether or not that makes the chances worse for others. Most humans don't think like that, they don't think like Harold or the Machine. And few, a very select few, think like John, having a hero complex, always ready to give themselves up to save anyone else, and there is something that both he and Shaw shared. A willingness to put themselves in danger for their loved ones without a single moment's hesitation, but I think Shaw knew it was coming, and it was almost as if she wanted it to be her.

If you want to die, do it for something you love.

"We have a lot to learn from Shaw, don't we?" I say to Her. I get static in response, and smile. My eyes are dry, I now only cry on the inside, for the sake of Harold, and the team. They feel like they have to tiptoe around me, but I know they have their share of suffering, it would be selfish to make them suffer more.

_You should have let me die. Why didn't you let me die?_

I stop for a minute waiting for a light to turn red. I lean against a wall and let the shadows cover my face. I feel your hands on my body and my your lips attacking mine again. It reaches into the very depths of my soul.

I continue to walk the streets, with one purpose. I _will _find you.

_You're my partner in crime._

A/N: please look for update notifications on my twitter Mariesnd97, and tell me if you want me to continue. Reviews are much appreciated!

_Remember - A review a day keeps the writer's block away!_


	3. Chapter 3

**No Copyright Infringement Intended**

**Title: **If You're Bonnie, I'm Clyde

**Chapter: **3

**Pairing: **Root/Shaw

**Genre: **Romance/Drama

**Rating: **T

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_Fire. FIRE._

_My veins are about to burst. I can feel my heart beating desperately, beat after beat coming out of my chest like war drums in my ears. My back hits a wall, but her lips won't leave mine, I wonder if she can taste my tears._

_I try to smile, but she won't let me. Her tongue slowly runs across my teeth, and I am awake, alive, I burst into action. There is a sound deep in my throat that speaks volumes more of the truth we'd never say out loud, a thousand ghosts of desire won't let themselves pass unnoticed, and among them is the desperate cry of relief of an addict going through withdrawal, her touch is a true ecstasy._

_My hands move towards her tan, glowing skin unconsciously, completely entranced. There was pure electricity running through the tips of my fingers. As soon as they reach her, through it seems like an eternity before they do, I am surprised and wondering at how soft it is, how delicate, how contrary to her hard features, her biting tongue._

_Her biting teeth, she's biting on my lip, I open my eyes and look at her darkly. Her eyes are open, observant, looks at me like a hunter, and I a trembling, helpless prey._

_Her skin is a momentary privilege I am allowed to enjoy for less than a second. Quick like snakes, her hands grasp mine firmly before I can truly appreciate the reality of her body so incredibly gently pressing against mine. Still, the barrier of her chest and her hands on mine, pushing them heavily against the wall behind me, making a loud yet unreal sound, she growls, and I am the one who is caged, not only by her, but by myself, for there is nowhere else in the universe I would like to be._

_Her kisses are a fierce and unrelenting, I stand there, my body writhing against her own, as they press harder and harder, maybe I let out a small moan. Some of her shows of affection are painful, but I'll never ask for mercy._

_For a moment she desists, leans back, looks at me with eyes deep as the darkest waters, full of raging fire, I run my tongue across my lips with the most devious smirk, my blue eyes are twinkling, like bright stars across a night sky. Something changes, the bounds of her grasp have loosened slightly. I am free._

_I can feel her with my entire body, she occupies my mind, I've given her my soul._

_I embrace her. We are one._

I wake up in a sweat. Alone.

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A/N: _A review a day keeps the writer's block away!_


	4. Chapter 4

**No Copyright Infringement Intended**

**Title: **If You're Bonnie, I'm Clyde

**Chapter: **3

**Pairing: **Root/Shaw

**Genre: **Romance/Drama

**Rating: **T

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I threw his useless dead body to the side, the sides of my mouth turned down, my eyes wide but empty, at the same time looking for something. I could no longer feel remorse, back to my old ways, pain changes us. I try to remember what made me stop in the first place.

But then again, I did have a reason to do it this time, a good one. _Her._

There was a contant current of tense expectation in the air, completely charged with an anxious energy. This anxiety came partly from not knowing where to look for her, while at the same time being aware of the passing time, how one second could mean the difference between life and death, for her to be gone from my life forever. I would never allow that to happen. I made her a promise, the same promise I whispered to myself, with closed eyes and trembling lips, every morning and every night.

_We are perfect for each other. Someday you will see that._

Sleep didn't come anymore. I spent my days in hiding, finding out as much information about Samaritan as possible, my nights on the street, the dark was my friend, and the shadow map my new home, we'd become quite familiar with each other. I hadn't seen any more agents make an attempt on our lives, I could tell they think they'd gained enough power so that we are no longer imminent threats. Nevertheless, one can never be too careful, I still put on a different face every day, created a new life story, a new personality, the wicked chameleon lady of the New York City streets, vicious and cold, I took the anger and heartwrenching hurt out on every agent with a manic, desperate anxiety and the as if they were the devil herself, Martine. And if she thinks I won't do the same to her, and if they think they are safe, they are wrong.

_I know John is on the lookout too, but I haven't seen him lately. One could say I've been slightly careless with my treatment of their assets, I wouldn't disagree. Considering the fact that I'm still alive, it's possible that he and the team have been taking care of the mess. There is no time for that, we need to find her. Everything else has taken a second place in my priority list._

My movements became mechanical, my torture tactics more and more creative.

"You, are going to give me the coordinates to the safehouse." I said with stone-cold eyes, two guns pointing straight at yet another operative's face, as he sat with his back against a car parked in an alley, his wide-eyed terrified eyes on his partner, then turning back and staring straight into the two guns. He was out of breath, burn marks over his arms, needle marks on his neck, blood coming down his face. His facial expression, however, remained uncooperative. _It seems this will take longer than I'd originally imagined, how unfortunate._ I don't smile, this is not something that gives me any true joy anymore, it is only a task I must complete, and as readily as possible. My eyebrows are slightly furrowed, my eyes wide and unforgiving, my mouth turned down slightly at the corners and stretched in a thin line, getting thinner and thinner, just like my patience. A vein was popping on my head. I leaned down and pressed the cold guns right on his head, and with a lilting, but terribly threatening voice started to repeat my command, planning to add a small incentive. Suddenly I heard a call in my ear.

"Hello, John." I said slowly, and turned my head to talk without moving my guns. As the guy suddenly tried to stand up, he was promptly hit in the head with the butt of one of them and lay unconscious for the time being. I smiled slightly, but my eyes were, as always, filled with an inexplicable sadness. "Tell me you have good news."

I heard John's raspy voice through the line, a couple of gunshots, and a police siren in the distance, "I have the coordinates, Root." He said, in the tone of a man about to kamikaze into action. "It will be heavily guarded," he paused, "Mind being my back-up?"

I felt a strange pang at the words directed at me, and didn't speak for a second. But then my features brightened, we were making progress. Something like hope shined brightly in my eyes, where nothing had seemed to shine as of late, and I responded, "Gladly, John."

As I walked out of the alley and into the New York night, I thought I saw her shadow moving across the sidewalk on the other side.

But as I ran over, there was no one in sight, my face had contorted in pain and worry, her name leaving my lips in a desperate, hushed whisper.

_Shaw._

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_A/N: a review a day keeps the writer's block away!_


	5. Chapter 5

**No Copyright Infringement Intended**

**Title: **If You're Bonnie, I'm Clyde

**Chapter: **5

**Pairing: **Root/Shaw

**Genre: **Romance/Drama

**Rating: **T

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_I love you, Shaw._

_Shaw._

_My mind formed the words, but out of my mouth only came a tortured scream._

I was woken up by the sound of static. My eyes opened, dark, empty. I was up immediately, my blank expression unchanged. I knew what I had to do.

I didn't bother opening the shutters, the news said it would be a sunny morning, but I wasn't in the mood. And I wouldn't be seeing the light either way. I walked to the desk of the apartment I was currently occupying, a place I would never come back to after I was done getting ready for today's identity. My name was Lindsay Moss, English college professor. How cute, maybe I could get some notes from Harold. I grabbed some glasses in a drawer and as I grabbed a messenger bag I had found yesterday some of his notes fell out, and, surprisingly, a photo of John, him, Shaw and Bear.

My legs gave out under me, and for a while was left kneeling on the floor staring out at the space in front of me, blind to the picture, the apartment, the papers in my hand, deaf to the directions in my ear. I imagined I heard gunshots. I imagined I felt them, one after another in my chest. I let out a sob, but no tears came. I reached for the picture, and an anger seized me. My body trembling, gaze fixed on her face, I pressed it to my chest, for a single moment, before ripping it to shreds, standing up and moving to the nearest trash can, and watching as the pieces drop, my entire being filled with a fiery vengeance, as I let them burn, and imagined the face of Samaritan, Martine.

A tear came down my face as my feelings settled back into melancholy oblivion, continuing with my daily tasks. I turned around, picked up the paperwork, grabbed my jacket, and with my hand on the door, pushed my glasses back, checking myself with a smile, remembering my cover, and looked back at the apartment I was leaving, as impersonal as my life had become. _How long would we go on like this? How long would we go on without a home?_

As I walked out the door and closed it quietly behind me I started to ask myself the questions I would never let myself ask, the ones I silenced with my absolute faith in a perfect being uncorrupted by emotions or feelings. As I stood in the elevator I wondered, _is there any true end to this? _Since Shaw's disappearance I had lacked something, I never lacked a motive, but her fearless determination to carry out the tasks needed of her regardless of consequence, to do things without thinking, the perfect soldier. The perfect hero. She was what I needed to fight Samaritan. Now the machine talked to an empty body, a true analog interface, a machine just like her. One that no longer cared.

The end of my mouth twitched and my eyes searched the elevator for a camera. I found it in the right upper corner and looked straight at it, knowing she was watching. I smiled for a moment as the doors opened. I knew She had noticed the change. I knew she was aware of how important Shaw was to me, even if to her she was only a secondary asset. She would have saved her life if she could, but as we given the previous unfortunate circumstances to which we had been witness, there were things even She could not foresee. I knew that now.

But none of it would have happened if it weren't for Samaritan.

I walked out into the open air.

There is a certain peace about the New York City streets, once one has become familiar with them. That feeling of purpose, everyone walking quickly, somewhere to be, something to do. Times Square is a wondrous place to observe. It's where I found myself, appearing seemingly as if out of nowhere. A monotone variety of female robotic voices give me my next directions. An honest smile appears on my face this time, they are very familiar, though I haven't visited this place in too long.

_Time to see some old friends._

I make my way underground. The path is dark but my feet are experienced, still, my eyes look out into the darkness, walk down a staircase slowly, see the curtain approaching, almost expecting to see her dark eyes staring back at me at any second, coming out from behind it. Almost expecting her to come out and meet me, a cup of coffee in her hand. I imagine myself looking lovingly at her thin, athletic frame, gaze smoldering and caressing her skin, saying something so disgustingly sweet it makes her roll her eyes, riling her up, oh, how I adored it. What I would give to pull her in and never let her go. To go off somewhere like Hawaii, forget everything, pretend we weren't made for this life, pretend there was any other way of leaving it but in a body bag. We'd been pretending for so long.

Nothing has changed, something like warmth seeps into my heart. Bear pricks his ears and so does Harold. John is nowhere to be seen. A man I've come to know as a father, as a teacher looked up with his small spectacles, apparently trying to smile, not exactly knowing if he should, but he does stop tying codes into his computer. The shock of hair on his head seemed the same as ever, but his face was a little pale. I felt his question in the air without him quite having to say it, I'd ask the same.

Instead I only gave him a reassuring, understanding smile and said, "Hello, Harold."

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_A/N: Remember, a review a day keeps the writer's block away!_


	6. Chapter 6

**No Copyright Infringement Intended**

**Title: **If You're Bonnie, I'm Clyde

**Chapter: **3

**Pairing: **Root/Shaw

**Genre: **Romance/Drama

**Rating: **T

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_Boom goes the dynamite._

Before the smoke has fully cleared I am walking into the now open side of the concrete building, one pistol in each hand, among the sound of alarms and rushing footsteps. I took them by surprise.

As I walked a man rushed out of the smoke at my side, he seemed simply startled at seeing me there. Without missing a beat I swung my weapon at his head and kept going as he crumpled to the ground behind me. The events of the previous days flashed in my mind as I walked on nearly blind.

_"But, you see, the thing about Shaw is that she does care, enough to save my life."_

_In my voice there was the sound peculiar to the almost silent moment before the coming of a storm, quiet yet intense, and filled with the promise of danger. Eyes hidden by dark clouds, time and again illuminated by the sudden electricity of anger and vengeance, but never quite raining, though the tears were there, never quite falling. When I held the taser close to Control's chest, it was Martine's face that I saw in front of me._

Suddenly a figure started to appear from behind the smoke. I did a double take, and thought it impossible. But when her face finally came out of the smoke, unchanged, impassive, the same dark eyes that had looked at me when the metal door had closed, separating us. At that time her black gaze had seemed almost forlorn, now it looked bewildered, and almost angry. She stopped, and the flames behind her disappeared, in the world there was only us in the smoke, pistols still pointing straight ahead, at each other. The static in my ear ceased to exist, the fire alarms stopped suddenly. Time had slowed down. And then a single word, that seemed to come from my mouth.

"Sameen?"

It seemed a hundred years before that figure spoke, almost a figment of my imagination, barely there, and yet so real. Then she spoke.

"Root."

Both my pistols fell to the ground, as did my mouth. My arms fell to my sides and the world was set back in motion. More operatives kept coming out from the smoke, and without a single thought, I grabbed another gun from inside my leather jacket. We didn't tear our gazes away from each other, but hearing their footsteps, we simply shot at multiple blind targets, hearing their confused groans of pain brought me a great pleasure. One that I hadn't been able to feel for a long time, that of working along beside her, complete chaos raging around us, but at her side, feeling as if together, we could conquer the world!

We were finally only inches away from each other, our bodies had come together. Shaw fired one last shot before she stuck her gun behind her harshly and in the same movement grabbed my face with her two warm hands, and stared my eyes with perplexed and accusatory anger. I simply smiled down at her and the small frown in her forehead, as it softened slightly and her mouth moved closer to mine, but she wouldn't tear her gaze away.

"Why," she asked in a low, worried voice. And while her eyes were filled with rage, her mouth was still imploring, "Why did you come here, Root?"

My smile grew, and I spoke the only truth I knew, feeling, for the first time in weeks, a certain peace overcoming my body, as well as an indescribable happiness, so with my eyes glowing, and without a care in the world, I whispered happily into her lips.

"I had to find you, Sameen."


	7. Chapter 7

**No Copyright Infringement Intended**

**Title: **If You're Bonnie, I'm Clyde

**Chapter: **7

**Pairing: **Root/Shaw

**Genre: **Romance/Drama

**Rating: **T

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_Heartbreak._

_The feeling of a thousand dreams shattering, of being stripped of every possibility of happiness, the true and most effective torture. There is a pain coming seemingly out of nowhere, that can be felt absolutely everywhere._

_What is heartbreak?_

"Root."

_Heartbreak has a name. Her lips curl around each word with a resounding rasp and silent roar, her eyes are empty tunnels of darkness where the only thing that remains is hope, if you look hard enough. Her skin has been touched by the sun, and my hands, which are now bound._

_I remember. I remember when her own bronze hands had been bound by my own, before I felt heartbreak, before I felt love. I remember the way her lips turned up at the corners in response to my dark threats, and I remember the trembling in my chest, the strange excitement in my bones, not of the act, but of that who I was performing it with. I'd never had so much fun torturing someone, or at least, never derived so much pleasure from the anticipation of doing so._

"Aren't you going to kiss me again?" I asked as the blindfold was harshly torn from my face, "I promise it would be a much more effective tecnique."

As Sameen leaned back on the desk in front of me, I studied her impassive face from underneath my eyelashes with a smile, my cheeks red as apples, looking happy and healthy, as if I was spending some quality time with my lover in a hotel with wine and chocolates instead of being held captive and tortured. Suddenly, in an almost feverish and impassionate motion, Sameen moved off the desk and leaned over me with a deep scowl.

"I don't think you realize the danger you are in." I smiled some more, for though her words were laced with a hostile warning, her eyes looked incessantly between mine, so, logically, I gazed warmly at her and pouted.

"That will just make it all the more fun, Sameen."

_Sunlight streamed in through the window. She sat relaxed on a chair as familiar with the situation as if it were daily routine, comfortable, without a single doubt in her abilities. If I hadn't admired her before, I certainly did then._

_The seconds ticked away and although I was aware of the agents doubtlessly yet unnecessarily coming to her rescue, I instead looked at her raven hair in the messy ponytail, some strands over her strong, defined, determined face. I wasn't then aware of a change in me, but when she spoke the words I felt the inescapable attraction, as if something so simple could seal a fate._

_"You know, I forgot to mention, I kinda enjoy things like this."_

_Immediately I could feel my face break into the purest, warmest sunshine. I glowed at her, and suddenly felt the urge to caress the skin I had seconds ago been set on to destroy._

_"I'm very glad you said that," I paused, wondering, "I do too."_

"Root."

"Yes, Sameen?"

"I'm going to need you to cooperate."

I stayed silent. My face said everything which needed to be said. _Make me._


	8. Chapter 8

Her voice left the name of her old friend, fellow agent, almost lover, in a mere whisper. In an almost moan. Her skin was burning and it was no longer from the touch of a ghost, but her reality seemed to want to mimic her dreams. Lights changed in the room, bathing everything in a surreal glow, now green, now red, now blue, trapping her consciousness and leaving her completely breathless. Her eyes never closed for more than a moment, and they refused to blink, and they refused to turn even for a second from the brown in front of them. It really seemed as if the darkness, the dream-like sequence of their movements was the music they were dancing to, created by the magical quality of their gaze, their gentle, graceful touch, finally able to graze instead of hitting, harming, hurting each other.

The energy flowed off them and into the heavy air charged with all the moments that had led them to this very point, a true climax to their interactions culminated in a single touch of their lips, melting like honey sweet and gentle into each other's mouth like the petals of a beautiful flower, moving to it's own song.

A sound came travelling from somewhere hidden in Root's throat, her vocal chords humming, what sounded like pure joy, something she had never truly known before. Her eyelids fluttered like the wings of a bird and her eyes shone like pure sunshine softly shining on the utter darkness that was the object of her deepest affections, her hidden emotions rushing to the surface like a bursting river, blue twinkling and reflecting the lights of the room, but with expression clear and transparent as water. She no longer felt hunted or trapped, and her energy flowed into Shaw like into an empty container, filling her with the most thrilling sensation.

From out of those inky depths came the single pinpoint intensity of a hundred suns, breaking through barriers and smashing though her rosy mouth in the shape of a beautiful smile.

As if truly becoming one and the same, they fell into each other with the ease of something real, something natural. As one slips into the warm comfort of bed very late at night after a tiring day, so Root slipped into the powerful embrace of the woman of her dreams, having saved her from the world.

And the thoughts that skipped Shaw's mind came to hers, that the dark-haired beauty had spent her life in terror, in danger, in action. That she had never stopped to smell the roses, to enjoy a warm cup of hot chocolate, to be pampered by her father. She had never felt comfort and happiness, and that every brick that life threw at her made her happy to build her wall, her icy fortress. Root was the one that with her complete warmth of ardent passion in those moments between life and death that are so rare had found the strength to melt. And what remained was a complete treasure.


End file.
